


Awake

by reillyblack



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Coming Out, DEREK IS OBLIVIOUS, I have no patience for slow-burns, Jealousy, M/M, but stiles handles it pretty well I think, derek and his terrible choices in women, maybe a little angsty tho, stiles pines, technically derek cheats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-03 07:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10238513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reillyblack/pseuds/reillyblack
Summary: Stiles was too goddamn old for a sexual awakening.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Moonlight. If you haven't seen it, GO WATCH IT NOW! So amazing.

Stiles was too goddamn old for a sexual awakening. 

Who realizes that they like boys, suddenly, at twenty? _No one._ Stiles has never heard of it. He was supposed to go through this big bisexual realization in his teens. Then he would have had plenty of time to join the GSA, tentatively quit, and then come back all proud and confident. Maybe he would have even fooled around in the school locker room with some cute jocks. As his situation stood now, there was no GSA at the Sheriff's station, and the only locker rooms he spent time in were at the tiny gym by his apartment. The gym was also conveniently situated next to Beacon Hill's only retirement community. So, not the sexiest, most age-appropriate locker mates.

This was all Derek Hale's girlfriend's fault. 

Stiles banged his head on the kitchen counter repeatedly as the image of her snaking her arms around Derek's neck and licking pornographically into his mouth replayed in technicolor in his mind. Stiles had thought to himself, inexplicably,  _that should be me._ Then he pictured it vividly, right there at the table, with the whole pack of super-snouts sitting next to him. He still hadn't entirely figured out whether they could smell arousal. Scott said they couldn't, but Stiles didn't trust it -- Malia always had a way of picking the perfect moments to jump him. 

She'd been gone for a year now. Stiles was just starting to hope that he would find someone else. This wasn't... exactly what he had in mind. 

After an explicit dream where Stiles woke up to come-stained boxers, shaking and sweating in the covers, he wandered in the dark of his apartment to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. Then he didn't drink it, instead staring at it while he replayed the dream over and over, analyzing every possible meaning. Stiles had never even seen gay porn, and he certainly didn't have any real experience to draw from, so his dream version of explicit was basically just naked, sweaty rubbing and kissing until he creamed his pants in his sleep.

Ok, he knew the meaning -- Derek Hale turned him on. A lot. Apparently he'd been too thick to realize this until Derek started dating again after however many years of moping about how his girlfriends always tried to kill him. Well, "moping" may be too strong a word for a... totally reasonable concern that Derek then courageously (or stupidly, depending on how you feel about the guy) bucked to date this new girl, Sara. 

Sara is... Sara is fine. For Derek, she must be something amazing, given his huge leap of faith. Stiles doesn't have a legitimate reason to dislike her, other than the fact that her PDA with Derek spurred a sexual crisis for him. Although, maybe Sara could turn down the PDA until he could do some proper research into this new thing that he was apparently into: men. Derek-shaped men.  

Derek-shaped men who haven't dated in years and are just now starting to try again rather than pretending they don't need love.

Stiles, and his stupid brain, have the worst timing _ever._

* * *

Yes, Stiles was stupid (despite his SAT scores) because he didn't realize how awkward this revelation was going to make things until he was already inside Derek's house with no excuse to leave for another three hours. He had cleared his schedule to go over old case files with Derek and screen for supernatural shit that could potentially pop back up. They even made lunch plans and everything. Then Stiles walked into Derek's nice, new house, the one that he built to replace the burnt remains of his family's old house, and realized that he couldn't stop picturing Derek's dick. He freudian slipped in the first ten minutes and then immediately wanted to bury himself alive. Even though Derek graciously overlooked Stiles mispronouncing the word "lock" as "cock", an hour into pouring over cases Derek actually asked Stiles what he thought of Sara. 

Stiles was not a jealous person. 

He wasn't. 

"She's fine." Stiles shrugged and glued his eyes to the report in his hand. It detailed a death from the 80's where some girl drowned inexplicably in the community pool. Normally that would fascinate him, but now he couldn't focus on anything other than whether his palms were about to get insanely sweaty from this conversation and smudge all the ink. 

"That's it?" Derek frowned at him. 

"Do you care what I think?" Stiles said because he had nothing else to say. 

Derek's expression went strange. A few years ago that would have been a real question, but now it was just insulting to pretend they didn't mean anything to each other. They worked together on a semi-regular basis. Stiles ate at the pack dinner every week. They bickered enough to qualify as an old married couple. 

"Yes." It was quiet and a little irritated. "I'm doing my best to survive this one." 

"If you're so worried, then don't date," _women,_ Stiles silently finished for himself. Derek's eyebrows spasmed and his mouth pulled down. 

"Thanks a lot, dick." 

"Derek, I--" Stiles stopped himself and reexamined the ugly, green monster in his chest. He took a calming breath. "I don't know her well enough yet to tell you if she's a demon who wants to sacrifice you and your loved ones to appease her demon queen in the underworld."

"Cora's still in Brazil," Derek noted seriously. "I told her to stay there." 

"Good plan. What about the rest of us? What are we, chopped liver?" 

"Of course not." Derek struggled with the next sentence before he ground out, "Help me. You're... good at this stuff." He gestured around at the papers spread out on his dining table. 

Stiles sighed and did his best to bury the green monster deep. He capped his red pen, useful for marking potentially weird supernatural shit, and turned his full attention to Derek. 

"Where did you meet her?"

"Frozen yogurt shop." 

Stiles blinked at him. 

"I like frozen yogurt," Derek defended himself immediately. 

"What was she doing there?" Stiles moved on rather than commenting. 

"She works there. She scoops the yogurt." 

This was too ridiculous. 

"...Alright," Stiles said carefully. Maybe if he avoided teasing Derek this would be over faster. "Smell?" 

"Fine, totally normal," Derek reported quickly. He had probably been obsessing over it. Scent hadn't done much for him in unearthing Kate or Mrs. Blake, but it was still one of the most powerful werewolf tools at his disposal. 

"Secretive?" Stiles asked next. 

"We've been dating a week." Derek shrugged. "I don't know. Doesn't seem like it." 

"What's her family like? Have you met any of them? Do they have normal jobs? Hell beasts tend not to have normal family members." 

"I met her brother," Derek said thoughtfully. "He works for the city doing water treatment. He seems chill." 

"Yucky, but normal," Stiles conceded. "She sounds fine for now. I'll keep an eye out, and you can bet the rest of the pack will be watching her carefully." 

"She doesn't know," Derek scratched the back of his head and fidgeted in place, "...about me."

 "Of course not! You met her at a frozen yogurt shop," Stiles accused instantly. It was his first thought, but he tried to keep it to himself. If Derek was going to bring it up, though...

"Should I..." Derek looked down at his lap. "Should I break up with her?" 

He sounded so resigned. Stiles could barely believe the beta was asking for his opinion about this; they may be friends, but the guy was still private as fuck. 

"No," Stiles admitted, trying not to sound too grudging about it. "You must like her a lot to break out of your long, self-induced moratorium on dating." 

Derek didn't answer, but Stiles knew it was true. He uncapped his pen and tried to refocus on the work spread out before them. 

* * *

"What is wrong with you?" 

It was Scott's first question for him at the next pack dinner. Stiles did his best to avoid Derek and his girlfriend during the meal prep, but they were everywhere -- kissing, touching, smiling. Oh, the _smiling_. Stiles was happy that Derek was happy, but why couldn't he smile at Stiles like that instead? Stiles was a funny person, according to most people. Yet, even for him, Derek's smiles were rare. Stiles wanted to guard them in a vault.  

So, Stiles eventually hid in the back of the pack house and nursed his beer quietly until Scott found him. 

"I'm fine." 

"Liar." Scott furrowed his brow. "What is wrong with you, dude?" 

"Derek's girlfriend." Stiles sipped his drink and swirled the contents of the glass, brown and unclouded. "What do you think of her?" 

"She's fine. A little handsy, honestly, but who am I to talk?" Scott admitted. 

"Well that's true." Stiles grimaced. "You are the king of PDA." 

"He seems happy."

"I know." 

"So what's the problem?" 

"She's probably not a demon." Stiles leaned back on the porch steps and looked up at the darkened sky.

"That's... the opposite of a problem." Scott sat next to him, intuiting that this wasn't a short conversation. They stretched their feet out on the summer grass as crickets chirped around them.

The pack house was nice, situated just at the edge of town so it was both convenient and woodsy. Stiles liked it well enough, but he couldn't live with a bunch of super-sensers 24/7 so he declined to move in when they invited him. Derek also lived alone in his tiny house on the preserve. They were the two weirdos of the pack: not quite belonging, but still lost without it. 

"So it turns out..." Stiles hesitated, but there was no real way he could keep this from Scott, "I may not be all that straight." 

"Yeah," Scott said immediately, "and?" 

Stiles froze. 

"You knew?" 

"You didn't? Dude, your _dad_ knows. Isaac once wanted to set you up on a date with a guy, but it was right after Malia left so I talked him out of it."

"Oh, screw you." Stiles laughed, feeling lighter already. "I had no idea. I guess that saves me the trouble of telling people." 

"You followed Danny around in high school like a puppy. You really didn't know?" Scott's smile faded. "So you like Derek now, huh?" 

"No one can hear us, right?" Stiles glanced warily at the house. He never could be sure. 

"They're playing twister. No one's paying attention to us." Scott shook his head. "Somehow, who you like surprises me more than what you like. I didn't understand the whole Lydia thing, either." 

"The heart wants what it wants. Well, the heart and other parts..." 

"Oh, Jesus." Scott rubbed a hand along his eyes. "So, scary and beautiful seems to be your type."

"Derek doesn't scare me anymore." 

"Well..." Scott seemed at a loss for what to say, so he finally settled on, "Maybe she's a Hell spawn. The odds are in your favor." 

Stiles groaned and buried his head in his arms. 

"Stop moping and come eat. Kira just won twister. Everyone's cursing about it." 

"He only dates women," Stiles said to his beer. This sucked. His first big crush on a guy, and he was straight. His _life._

"So did you."

Scott looked far too chipper. Stiles sighed and let Scott pull him to his feet. 

* * *

Derek invited him to his house the next weekend to get to know Sara. Apparently, this was step two in the demon screening process. Stiles couldn't think of one good excuse to say no. Also, he really didn't want Derek to end up eviscerated on the side of the road because Stiles opted out of helping him.

Sara played for the local softball team. She loved hiking and cooking -- she made them chicken enchiladas that Stiles happily wolfed it down. Her skin was flawless, rosy and smooth. Derek smiled big when she made a joke.

Stiles couldn't find a single thing wrong with her. It fucking sucked.

"She's probably not evil," Stiles informed Derek as they watched her car drive off. She had the afternoon shift at the yogurt shop. "So, I guess I'll head out." 

"Why?" Derek asked, throwing himself down easily on his couch. "You need to be somewhere?" 

"...No." Stiles shrugged, eyeing the way Derek seemed to completely relax. The food was good, but Stiles still felt queasy from the whole encounter. "You need something else?" 

"No." Derek played with the edge of his too-tight henley. Stiles couldn't help but feel good because Derek didn't want him to leave. It was a small victory after watching Sara play with Derek's hair all through lunch, a victory Stiles needed. 

"Why don't you live with Scott and the others at the pack house?" Stiles wondered suddenly, leaning against the comfy chair facing the couch. Derek gestured for him to sit, so Stiles circled around and sank down, his stomach settling somewhat now that it was just the two of them. 

"Hear that?" Derek put a hand to his ear and paused. Stiles froze too, listening intently. "Quiet. Absolute silence." Stiles was too used to actual threats to their life to recognize it as a joke. He rolled his eyes at Derek's knowing look. "You think I'd ever get that living with those kids?" 

"Hey," Stiles growled. "I'm the same age." 

"Yeah." Derek smirked at him. "You are." 

"Well, this _kid's_ saved your oh-so-grown-up ass more times than I can count," Stiles insisted with a scowl. Derek laughed. He had such a nice throat. And shoulders. And the top buttons of his henley were undone, so Stiles could see the smooth skin of his chest.

Anyway.

"You're... what, six years older? How old are you, grandpa?" 

"Twenty six." Derek grunted his disagreement at the nickname. 

"I remember when I was in high school and you seemed so much older and cooler."

"You hated me in high school," Derek corrected him, narrowing his eyes. 

"Initially." Stiles cleared his throat and looked away. Thinking back to high school... Oh, he was such an _idiot_. Scott was right. Nothing about this was sudden. Even then, all the way back then, Derek turned him on. He just couldn't admit it. The only reason he could now was because... it wasn't just about attraction anymore. It was something real. Something deep. As the realization rocked through him, Stiles's mouth did what it usually did when he was thinking hard. "Strong feelings like that, though, they can be hard to label. I don't think hate was the right one." 

Stiles realized what he said too late. Derek stared at him, his smirk falling away to slack-jawed surprise.

Stiles stood immediately, his face burning. 

"I should go." 

He pulled his keys from his pocket and booked it to the door. He was moments away from crying, his chest burning with anger and regret and embarrassment because he was seriously such an _idiot._

Just as his hand touched the doorknob, another hand slammed into the door and disrupted his plans to wrench it open. Stiles jumped in surprise, twisting to find Derek close behind him, his arm trapping Stiles against the door. He looked too intense, his eyes faintly glowing blue and his shoulders hunched with tension. 

"What does that mean?" Derek asked in a low voice, leaning closer even as Stiles backed away and bumped into the door. 

"Fuck," Stiles mumbled. His heart rate jumped up so fast he felt sweaty and dizzy. Derek smelled amazing. 

"Stiles?" Derek moved even closer. He refused to look away, his burning eyes searching Stiles's. Stiles couldn't believe this was happening. He must have hit his head and passed out -- this was just another wet dream designed to torture him. 

"Alright." Tears pricked his eyes, but Stiles swallowed them down desperately. He pushed at Derek's shoulder to get him to back off a little, but the werewolf wouldn't budge. The combination of humiliation and arousal was way too much and Stiles broke. "It doesn't matter, anyway! You're... s-straight. And you're dating Sara."

Derek took a step back, finally. His arm came down and Stiles felt like he could breathe again. But Derek was staring at him with a truly incomprehensible expression. Stiles sagged against the door and avoided watching Derek's reaction by squeezing his eyes shut and trying to pretend he was on an island somewhere, lying in the sun with no worries. The silence went on for what seemed like ages.

"I don't even..." Derek trailed off. Stiles opened his eyes just to see Derek snap his mouth shut and glare at the wall next to Stiles's head. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "Turn." 

"...What?" Stiles's voice sounded strange to his ears. Of all the possible reactions, anger was not what he expected.

"Turn," Derek growled, his eyes blazing blue. 

Stiles turned without thinking. He couldn't imagine _why_ Derek wanted him to-- 

 _Oh._   

Derek blanketed him, pressing from his shoulders down to his calves. Stiles's entire body shuddered and his knees went weak. Then Derek hips moved, something hard grinding into him -- 

"Don't call me straight again," Derek whispered in his ear, his chest tight against Stiles's back. Stiles shook as Derek ground his hips into his ass again, a moan wrenched from his throat by the action. "I hate that." 

Stiles was about half a second away from actually passing out. No way was this happening. He was also not, in any way, complaining. Thinking about how little Derek said out loud, it did make sense that this is how Derek would announce himself -- they had always spoken more through rough touches and less through actual words. 

Stiles's hands balled into fists against the wall as Derek's hands drifted lower on his waist. He ran his nose along Stiles's neck. 

"I thought you liked S-Sara," Stiles managed to say, his voice barely more than a whisper. He wanted so badly to press back against him and just let their bodies talk rather than having a real conversation about this. "Like, a lot. Enough to break your no-dating thing." 

Derek seemed to pause at that, his body stilling against Stiles's back. 

"I like Sara." He rested his chin on Stiles's shoulder. "But I love you." 

"You--" Stiles's throat closed as Derek's hands came to rest right at the waistband of his pants. He fingered his hipbones in a tantalizing way as he moved more gently against Stiles's back. Stiles swallowed hard. "L-love? You can't love me, you're--" 

"Are you honestly going to argue with me? Right now?" Derek breathed against his ear, his nose pressing against his skin. Stiles trembled violently in response.

"That does sound like me." Stiles was all nerves, but he found the courage to twist in Derek's arms to face him. Looking into his satisfied and very wolf-y eyes, Stiles shoved his own hand down Derek's pants. When he palmed at his impressive erection, Derek drew a sharp breath in surprise, but the werewolf pressed back eagerly against him, rubbing himself into Stiles's hand. Stiles still couldn't believe they were doing this. He grinned, exhilarated. 

"I know that this was totally meant to deter and shock me, but..." Stiles bit his lower lip,"if this is the reaction I'm going to get, I'm calling you straight all the time." 

Derek growled deep in his throat.

"Years." Derek shook his head before he leaned in to press his nose to Stiles's neck. He drew deep, ragged breaths. "I'm been in love with you for years, and you let me just... _straight_... what the _fuck_ , Stiles." 

Stiles shuddered, this time from something decidedly non-physical. That word again.

"You... seriously love me?" Stiles's tongue tripped over it. "You're not joking or over-exaggerating or something?"

"You seriously thought I was straight?" Derek fired back, sounding irritated. Stiles laughed. Of course they'd find a way to fight about this.

"I thought _I_ was straight, dude. I'm no good at this."

Stiles felt Derek smile against his skin. 

"You're not," Derek breathed, sending shivers through Stiles. His hands slipped down into Stiles's pants finally, spreading Stiles's cheeks and brushing over his hole. Stiles gasped and his hips jerked out of instinct. "Definitely not." 

"God," Stiles panted, "Definitely not." 

"Let's do something about that, shall we?" 

* * *

A week later, they traced the disappearance of a store clerk back to Sara. Deaton had to banish her with a succubus curse. 

Stiles tried hard to be comforting (rather than mocking, which was his first terrible instinct), but Derek didn't seem too broken up about it after all.  


End file.
